


Distractions

by JTHM_Michi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Gen, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 05:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11373558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JTHM_Michi/pseuds/JTHM_Michi
Summary: Anonymous asked:... at some point Obi-wan has set the record for fastest Jedi robe removal ever.A.K.A. In which Obi-Wan loses his robes throughout the years and only some of them is because of Dramatics™.





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> There are a few moments in here about torture of a character, but it's mild.

The second the drop hit his shoulder, his robes started to sizzle and a moment later his skin stung in the telltale way that meant it was raining acid. Because of course it was, how  _else_  was this mission to begin? 

The acid droplets floated around him moments later, as if hitting a barrier that covered him, and when he looked up it was to see his Master standing behind him and looking up at the sky with a frown upon his face. 

“Reports of this planet’s environmental damage have been greatly understated.” He said gravely. Obi-Wan nodded, worried about that fact himself. “I worry about the native species that call this home if it’s gotten this bad.” He continued. 

Obi-Wan eyed the wide expanses of greenery still all around them, spiral thorns protruding from the trees, and was less worried. 

“The planet life seems alright.” He commented and Master Jinn cuffed him lightly upside the head before he retorted with: 

“Use the Force, Padawan mine, not your  _eyes_. What does the Force tell you?”

 _The Force tells me I’m hungry and that I’d like not to test how long you can hold this barrier over us._  He thought, angrily and privately, but then he obediently did as instructed and felt around himself with the Force. 

The feeling of a million stinging burns, like the one on his shoulder, came to him along with the sensation of decay - a chalky, slimy sensation like he had mud and tar caked in his hair and pulling at his scalp. He shuddered and quickly closed himself off again. 

“My apologies, Master, I wasn’t paying enough attention.” He murmured. Qui-Gon put his hand on his shoulder, the one that wasn’t still stinging just a little from the early droplet, and squeezed lightly. The unspoken acceptance of the lesson and the small feeling of pride that stretched between them for a scant second. Obi-Wan glowed inside. 

“Let’s get inside and get you out of that robe, it’s starting to look more like a tattered blanket than a covering.”

* * *

The fire is raging around them, warehouses burning, and he’s moving his arms at a fast rate, blocking crude steel projectiles and blaster bolts simultaneously. Cerasi was at his side, shooting and ordering others into various formations and also keeping track of the ships in the sky. He was constantly impressed with her, it seemed, and wondered - not for the first time - if this was what it felt like to be in love. 

“Advance the forward squad!” Cerasi screamed and Obi-Wan spun around, grabbing her about the waist, and threw them both back just as a grenade landed where they were and exploded. He felt the searing heat and knew the fire must have caught on his robes, but Cerasi was unharmed. 

He rolled off of her, shedding his burning robe, and watched as Cerasi leap forward with a spinning blade, hacking her way through the Elders keeping them boxed in. She was shouting orders as he followed after her, lightsaber ignited and watching her back. 

She jumped and embedded the blade into an Elder’s face, blood spurting out around it, and yanked his automatic weapon from his corpse even as it dropped. Obi-Wan felt the thrum of the Force around him and called it up, yanking the fire with him, and turned it to the looming battleship above them. He’d already managed to crush it’s guns, he might as well get it down. 

Above them, a part of the ship exploded as it caught fire and the Young around him screamed in joy and victory. 

They weren’t out of the woods yet. 

* * *

Master Jinn comes back to the hovel they’re hiding in with the Duchess in his arms, her hair hacked off and face bruised. She’s wrapped in Qui-Gon’s robes and he notices, when he hurries over to check her over, that a few of her fingernails are missing. 

 _They tortured her._  And even as he helps bandage her wounds, he’s seeing another woman in her place. Satine and Cerasi don’t look at all alike, but it’s hard for him not to see Cerasi’s auburn hair scorched and hacked away in Satine’s once long and flowing blond locks; to not see the lines around Cerasi’s lips from where they had been sewn shut in Satine’s missing fingernails; to not hear Cerasi chocking on her blood in his arms in the shallow breathing of Satine as Qui-Gon set her broken arm. 

Qui-Gon leaves to so something, Obi-Wan wasn’t really listening, trying hard to remember the way Cerasi’s lips felt against his instead of the way her limp body felt in his arms. Satine is laying on her cot, what little pain killers they can spare coursing through her body, and Obi-Wan knows he should meditate. Should focus on Cerasi so he can make his peace with her and then  _let her go_ , let her rest, in the past where she belongs. He needs to move past this. 

“Who was she?” Satine asks, her voice soft and slurred. Satine had a very musical voice, very soft and even. Cerasi’s was low and harsh, more like a drum beat than the high violin of Satine’s. 

“Who was whom?” Obi-Wan asks and maneuvers so he’s beside her cot so she doesn’t strain herself. 

“Cerasi. You mumble for her sometimes, at night.” Satine says and she’s looking at him with a very soft look, an expression he didn’t think she could make. 

Hearing her name hits him like a lightsaber to the heart. 

“She was a friend of mine.” He says, when he can breathe again. He remembers her arms around him, the heat of her pressed against his front, her lips soft and incessant over his. Her passionate voice as she ralled the Young, her laughter at a truly awful pun he had made. 

“A friend? Now I’m insulted for the poor girl, you can’t even call her what she was.” Satine says, her voice cutting and yet it was so different than when Cerasi cut into him for his hypocrisy. Satine’s voice was like a scalpel, leaving blood in its wake, whereas Cerasi’s was more like a blunt object to the face. She  _demanded_  you feel what she wanted, right then, not later once you realized you were bleeding out. 

“She’s dead. She neither needs nor would want your pity.” Obi-Wan says, pushing the comparisons away. They weren’t necessary. 

A small hand, soft and smooth, covers his. There were bandages around some of the fingers and even as he grips it back, he couldn’t remember a time when Cerasi ever used bandages for herself. Medical supplies were always low and they always went to others. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Satine whispers and Obi-Wan closes his eyes, breathes deep, and doesn’t let himself remember a calloused hand in his own. 

“She was my friend.” He says again because that’s all she can be to him now. All she could ever be, now. 

When Satine finally falls asleep, he takes his hand back and covers her with his robe. Cerasi never needed someone to cover her when she slept, at least not with a blanket, but Satine was not Cerasi. 

* * *

“Prepare yourself, Kenobi!” Quinlan says from across the training mats and Obi-Wan allows himself a small smirk. 

“I rather thought you liked to do that, darling?” He says and shrugs out of his robe as Quinlan roars with laughter. 

* * *

He looks over his robe with a frown, trying to think of anything he owned that could have possibly turned it this particular shade of lilac. He puts it on, maybe it won’t be so noticeable in the light?

As he looks in the mirror, he shrugs it right off and goes to whine at Qui-Gon about not having any robes to wear. 

* * *

“It’s me, Tak’ka, Tokala~!” He slurs out and lets the robe fall from his shoulders in a seductive wave. Bant and Quinlan nearly fall over themselves laughing.

* * *

Anakin has a spectacular meltdown, because of course he does. He exists to make Obi-Wan’s life difficult and maddening. 

They’re racing through hyperspace at a speed that Obi-Wan tries very hard not to think about, everything not bolted down is floating or vibrating or  _both_ , there’s at least two droids that are speaking backwards in binary, and the Force is  _screaming_. He feels nauseous and has a headache that beats against his left temple like a very persistent neighbor. He thinks, for a moment, that his hands are actually his feet and his feet are bloody stubs before he yanks his shields down tight. 

The sudden silence is as welcome as it is unnerving. He goes off to hunt down his padawan and finds the boy, unsurprisingly, in the small closet where Obi-Wan had none to gently tossed him after having Anakin  _bite him_. Even with his shields down tight, it hurts to look at Anakin directly - a blast of multicolor and shades of black, a collapsing supernova of sensations, and the crawling sense of something just unnatural - so he drops his outer robe over the boy and picks him up. 

He’s pretty sure the medbay on this boat had a sedative that wouldn’t give Anakin liver damage. 

* * *

“This is the fourth one. This week.” Tube says as he hands Cody the Jedi-less robe. Cody closes his fist around the fabric and does not cuss out his Jedi for being reckless and stupid…

at least he doesn’t do that out loud. 

* * *

He finds Anakin in the rear command station, huddled in his robe, and staring out at the galaxy. Being that they’re in hyperspace, the front command station is the one currently being utilized so Obi-Wan figured he’d find the other man here. 

He sits down in the captain’s chair, knowing by now that Anakin needs space when he’s like this. 

“Do you think she remembered to eat today?” Anakin asks out of the blue and Obi-Wan was worried that he was brooding about this. 

“Ahsoka is a smart and capable girl.” He says. 

“But do you think she remembered to eat today?” Anakin questions again, insistent. “She doesn’t sometimes. What if she didn’t?” 

“You trained her well, Anakin. I’m sure she’s fine.” Obi-Wan soothes, or tries to anyway. 

“But do you think she remembered to eat today?” Anakin asks again, more pointed. 

“Yes, Anakin, I think she remembered to eat today. She’s not a child.” Obi-Wan says, fed up with the repetition. 

Anakin turns to look at him and he looks so lost. 

“But she is.”

 


End file.
